


Like waves crashing on the rocks, hearts meant to be broken

by Augenblickgotter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Patient (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley is human, F/F, Human AU, M/M, Other, Selkie - Freeform, aziraphale is a selkie, fairy tale AU, good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augenblickgotter/pseuds/Augenblickgotter
Summary: Anthony Crowley is a recovered ex-musician on the shore tourist-trap town of Tadfield, now running a record/instrument shop. Life had been better and maybe it could be a new future for him before middle age anchors him down.But a random good deed finds him proposing and marrying an actual Selkie.Promised happy ending.TRIGGERS; mentions and implied past substance abuse, alcoholism, bad and abusive relationships, self-harm, and suicide attempts.WATCH tags to be added, very mature elements to come.MORE chapters to come!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), beezlebub /anathema
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	Like waves crashing on the rocks, hearts meant to be broken

**Author's Note:**

> There was an adorable prompt of what if someone accidentally handed back a Selkie's pelt, which is regarded as a gesture of proposing, and the next day they showed up at your doorstep proposing as they have seen humans to do?
> 
> BONUS! I'm writing flip versions of the characters in the human and selkie roles. Find it here[When my ships come in](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456586)

Most everyone called Anothony Crowley by his last name.

Crowley.

It was dark, it was full sounding, it was cool.

Like he thought himself. 

And he liked it.

Anthony was the owner of CrowSoundz, the small but delightfully active little record and instrument shop in this small but delightfully active English seaside town of Tadfield.

Tadfield; Tourist trap, wanna be bohemian artist central, chock full of history that was just enough to keep things clean and friendly. Just the right place to sell vinyl too. 

Crowley enjoyed this more than previous gigs as a musician, music tech, theatrical hand and so much more. His skinny frame, shock of red hair, dark eyes, and chiseled manner that fit his body would have worked perfect as a rock star. He had brief stints, but found he was better suited behind the sounds. 

And being out of the spotlight was fitting him better after all those wild years. 

Too wild. 

Even having a sound head on his shoulder, Crowley had leapt headfirst, very much knowingly, into some personal and emotional hellholes. The wrong people he thought were friends, things to try and he couldn't get off, and things he couldn't say about himself. Not a suave guy like himself. He almost didn't come back and didn't want to several times. This postcard town would be better off without a borderline druggie like that wanna be punk.

But he did with prodding from a few people who cared. One was now employed and helped run the instruments at his shop. Beez was a manic pixie dream girl that was actually not manic, very pixie like in her short stature and spiky haircut, and questionable about the girl part. Whatever they were Crowley cared little. The Pint sized Rock and Roller tolerated little of his misbehaviour and was sure to give him a needed earful. And they had the uncanniest knack to play any musical device known to man like it was second nature.

That's why he hired them anyway.

The only other person who cared to pull his drunk and high emo rear out of the gutter was the girl who ran the Tarot/poster/incense/head shop next to them. Anathema. Stevie Nicks witchy girl type is what Crowley thought initially. But instead, she proved to be another no nonsense person that saw the good behind the black leather jacket and bad habits. More than not she'd get to the point and deliver the exact thing Crowley usually didn't want to hear, but had to. The uncanny knack to read him shouldn't have shocked anyone with her Tarot reading abilities. But like Crowley shrugged off like the rest of the local myths and histories, silly fairy-tale stuff.Glad to know her otherwise.

Unmarried, in his 40's, still devilishly handsome with the air that there were plenty of hearts left to break in this world, Crowley could feel those hearts were numbered.

He had had his broken enough, maybe it was time to leave something else in this world besides pieces.

So, the first divorce several years behind him, along with many other attempts at romance, he spent the last few years just letting that go.

Less time spent with hookups, more on staying clean and running his shop. Honestly, sitting in his own shop, black jeans and shirt, sunglasses inside no matter the weather, flaunting the too-cool-to-touch single sexually ambiguous type had it's allure. And still broke hearts.

But tonight Crowley wasn't up for breaking any hearts, he felt the tiniest crack in his own. Maybe it was how the stars and moon looked out over the waters from the dock where he stood. Maybe it was that feeling that came with the Summer like the first time he hooked up with his first real feeling date. The first one he cared about, even though he was a married man . (Date’s name was Bruce, he remembered.) Or maybe this 'treat yourself self care" bullshit Anathema had suggested was backfiring on him. 

The seeping tide of melancholy made him beat a slow retreat towards the bistro and pub fronts that young couples cheery strolled by. He managed to duck into one of his familiar haunts, find a table, and let himself vanish in the revelry frothing about the room. He wasn't just feeling lonely. He was feeling alone. So utterly alone. He never built up a cache of friends to do anything with. And the two that he had he dreaded to reach out to for fear of alienating them. They had their own problems, and he needed them for when he really needed them.

 _"When's that, Anthony?"_ he wondered as he gulped down another shot. "When?"

___

Two wasted hours he stood and weaved past the maze tables and knees.

Home was only a short walk. His seaside cottage was something a couple would kill for. As he exited his booth, amid the haze, visceral noise, and tacky floor that pulled at his boots, Crowley spotted something bright.

It was on the ground, spilled out from beside a chair.

As Crowley neared he saw it was a jacket or coat.

He wasn't a man above helping another man out for something small like that. Lord knows, others had done it for him. And perhaps the serotonin induced from one good deed would be enough to get him home without a breakdown.

The person in the chair from which it likely fell was dressed in a light suit that stood out in the dim room. A man, alone with his fish and chips and porter.

Their hair was white enough Crowley figured it was an older person, and they were alone. 

He slid up and saw it was a fur cape.

_"Hmm, waiting for wife to get back? No wife? Fellow gent to chat with? Whatever, friend, bloody rough place to drop your furs."_

With a swift jerk Crowley scooped up the garment and shook it as he moved it to the back of the chair. 

"There you are, pal," he said. "Careful, wouldn't want this to..."

His fingers couldn't stop massaging the skin.

_"Jeez, is this... mink or... what bloody animal has this fur? Maybe it's synthetic?"_

Whatever it may be, Crowley was bemused at his enchantment with it. The pub's sounds became murky, and all he heard was the hum of an ocean in his head. His hands couldn't stop their gentle rolling through what felt like a living creature. At that instant, Crowley felt tranquility.

Then he noticed the eyes staring back from his trance.

The owner turned in his seat, head cocked nearly sideways as he chewed on his meal. 

His face was so unassumingly inquisitive Crowley chuckled and forced himself to move the fur to the back of the chair.

"Uhmmm, errm, you uh, dropped it."

The man's eyes blew open in such shock as he continued chewing. Crowley hoped this eccentric wouldn't react any further, he didn’t need a spectacle right at this moment.

The pelt slipped and hung back in place on the chair.

Crowley moved on, hoping to just slide away but even with his ridiculous aviator glasses on in a dark room the man's eyes locked with his. 

_"Like I've met before. Like... someone I can't forget. So blue."_

The Stranger had huge eyes and he was blinking liberally. There was a strange feeling over Crowley, like someone was intimately asking if he was alright, if he felt fine. He had half a mind to sit down across from this person and share how he was feeling.

The Man swallowed, ceased blinking and leaned closer, mouth going agape.

With a thundering crash the sounds and smells of a middle aged pub rushed back to Crowley.

"Ehmm, yeah, have a good one," he muttered as he spun and strode for the door. He didn't dare look back until he was out and several buildings down the street.

_"Wow, Crowley, you've hit rock bottom_ ," he mused, taking long strides along the now gravel path to his shoreline cottage.

_"Hitting on older men now? Desperate? Sheesh, with my luck he'll be in the shop tomorrow wanting to buy an Ink Spots record while hitting on me. "_

Whistling "If I didn’t care" he jabbed the key into his front door lock, opened it, went inside, promptly found his weekend Scotch and drained half the bottle to get a hearty jump on the weekend.

______________________________________

The gentle tapping resumed.

Crowley winced from his daybed in his den. 

His head felt as stale as the air around him in the room.

He gave his limbs a twitch, grateful to still have motor co-ordinations enough. He glanced down at himself. 

Well, at least he had shucked his shoes and jacket off. Glasses, though? Permanent fixture.

  
  


Another round of tapping came from the front door.

_"Bastard, gonna make me walk over, eh?"_

He yanked himself vertical. Good, he could stand. He moved a leg. Hmm, walking no so much. Every step seemed to reverberate up his spine. loudly.

_"Dammit, Talisker, if you didn't taste so good I wouldn't drink so much of you. Your fault I'm like this."_

He tromped to his door.

Crowley shifted on the jacket and leaned against the door frame, pausing his hand to open.

"Yeah?" he hollered.

No answer.

He peered through the peep-hole and could barely make out a person on the other side.

With a yank, he flung the door open.

"Yeah, what?"

He paused at the sight of a man. His garb was outdated enough Crowley who assumed a historical reenactment nearby. But that was secondary to to thing he saw first.

White hair. A half-curly head of white hair topping the brightly clad body.

There was so much he couldn't remember and didn't care to remember from last night. But he couldn't forget the hair. _The fur shawl._

And then those eyes.

They looked expectant when he met them. As he locked with them, they crinkled at the edges and sparkled. This person had stood out in the dim world of a dank pub. Today in the sun he was luminescent. Crowley was no real expert but his garb looked like a style that had go very out of style over a hundred years ago and it was mostly cream and light colors especially with the long camel colored overcoat. Everything was quaint and almost whimsical; the coat, the hair, the little patterned bowtie (“ _Do people still wear those anywhere besides weddings?_!”), and his features. His face was stocky and round to the point of cherubic. Like the rest of him it looked unthreatening and pale, except for some freckle like splotches of color under his eyes.

Normally the thought of someone you barely interacted with the night before having shown up at your doorstep smiling would be terrifying.

But Crowley had the most nagging feeling like he'd see this person again.

All he could do was gape, hoping the person would make time start and get this over with soon.

"Oh, I am sorry," the man suddenly apologized. His voice was more mellifluous than Crowley expected (what HAD he expected). It was still soft and calm like the rolling of the ocean.

"Uhhh--BBB--bout? I, uhm?"

The Man seemed to be pulling up the courage to speak. He swallowed and held out an arm, holding a small box in his hand.

Crowley could only stare.

A small velvet box, like jewelry, would be in.

Bashfully, barely making eye contact, the man popped open the lid with his thumb and Crowley's imagination was erased.

It was a ring.

"The Jeweler said it was his finest. I hope you like it."

Crowley loved it. 

Like someone remembered a personal childhood secret and surprised him with it; a favourite ice cream, a favourite song, and favourite event.

Crowley looked up at the Man.

 _"What... what the...?_ "

His hand hovered above the ring of its own will. It was black metal set with small flecks of diamonds throughout, like a night sky.

The Man looked encouraged and took a step closer.

"Well, I really thought if you went through all that effort to give yourself to me, I should at least try and honor your customs." 

Crowley pulled back his head, the logical part of his nonfunctioning mind screaming this was some weird joke gone bad. 

The Man From Another time blinked with concern.

"Am I doing it right? Correct? Your kind exchange a ring?"

Crowley looked deeper at the man, feeling fainter and fainter with an uncanny terror like he was exposed and an equally uncanny sensation he knew this person for ages and all he wanted to do was assure him he was doing everything right.

"My... kind?"

"Yes! Humans. Humans exchange a ring as a sign of unity? Or is it something else? Oh dear... " The Man muttered to himself as he became crestfallen. "Or is the the flowers and chocolates?"

  
  


"Humans?" Crowley stabbed, wondering where this train wreck of a joke was going. "Are you not human?"

"Oh no, I'm not!' The Man shook himself firmly like he was now pleased Crowley understood.

"No, no, never was. It's just a facade." We resumed a delighted grin.

"Oh, had me fooled," Crowley sarcastically huffed, starting to get strained with this whole situation.

The Man gave an even sunnier smile and looked like he was glowing.

"Oh, thank you! I have worked hard at it!"

"Great job. Let me guess; You are from the Moon then?"

"No!" the man scowled. "Obviously not. I'm originally from the Coast that way-" he gestured broadly out to the bay.

"Look, may I cut to the question here?" Crowley rubbed his forehead as little electrical aches still pulsed by.

"Oh please do! I was going to ask you!"

_"I have no fucking idea what this is about, but I need to just get this over with._ Uhm, why are you here and what the hell do you want?"

Surprise shimmered through those eyes as the pale face turned slightly.

"To... return the favor."

His enthusiastic tone now sounded pained.

"What favor might that be?" Crowley knew he sounded harsh, but had his guns loaded for the inevitably awkward punchline.

The Man didn't miss a beat as his eyes tugged his face back to respond earnestly.

"To affirm your overture to be my companion for what remains of either of our days, whatever they may be."

Crowley's face must have squiggled through the several emotions that slammed through his mind, causing the Stranger to look concerned.

"Companion? WHAT?"

"Would mate be a better term? I'm sorry, I do get confused by different terms humans use."

  
  


Crowley finally closed the door behind himself and took a breath.

_"Oh shit, I got it. I fucking got so blind pissed last night I ordered an escort or some roleplay type and don't even remember. Just fucking enough sense to hit 'yes, here's my credit card send someone to this address'...."_

Crowley inhaled and raised his hands neutrally.

"Look, friend..."

The Man brightened and held up the box excitedly.

"Uhmm, there's been a mistake..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, uhm, not you. No, you are doing just fine."

  
  


The man clearly couldn't see the sarcasm behind this and seemed to be taking it very literally as his smile grew and he wiggled his shoulders.

" _Oh lord, he's so naive I'm embarrassed._ Uhmm... Yeah. Just super. I'm sure they pay well for the whole Old Fashioned Lover Boy thing..." 

The yelp took Crowley by surprise. While he blinked to confirm that indeed a peculiar personal appearing to be proposing marriage had just barked in overflowing delight. 

"Oh, I love that song so much!" 

" _Oh lord just_... Ehmh, the problem is me. You see, I uhm... accidentally made you come here and ..."

"No accident."

"Uhm, well, alright, doing your job. But uhm... _Let's play the game back..._ Alright then, who, may I ask, sent you?"

The Man looked as pleased as a puppy.

"YOU did!"

"I mean... what's your... company? Outfit?"

The Man sighed and twisted his mouth to the side.

"No one sent me, foolish person. I came because you asked to be my mate. Now," he narrowed his eyes to Crowley with a new coolness. "Do you remember _how_ you did it?"

Crowley scoffed.

"Drunk texting? I never remember it half the time. I hope I didn't accidentally send nudes..."

The Man hoisted something at Crowley's hands. Crowley couldn't stop himself from catching it.

He fumbled with a slippery cloth that was weighty. No, not fabric but fur. And soft. So soft. His fingertips screamed out in recognition at the feeling.

_"Last night. The fur shawl. I handed it back..."_

He strained to shoot off a retort (or expletive) , but then he couldn't find the words. He let his fingertips wriggle through the skin before he realized the Man also held it, and Crowley had brushed him with his touch several times. Crowley glanced up to face him, the man had his face turned downward in the most unmistakably bashful way.

Crowley didn't feel the normal desire to scream at this person to leave now, and had followed him back home and what the hell kind of strange story was he trying to sell? Instead it maddeningly made sense. He swallowed hard .

"I... didn't mean to..."

The Man opened his eyes and looked so deep into Crowley's that he felt he was inside him.

"Of course you did."

_"Of course I did. I did. I did, didn't I? "_

Crowley was ready to succumb to what was making perfect sense in his heart, but his head dared him to challenge.

"I just.. handed it back..."

"You GAVE it back. I accept."

Crowley turned his head in question. 

"Accept?" 

"You proposal. I want nothing more than to be your devoted mate."

The Man leaned closer into Crowley who pressed against his door.

"Mate?" he whispered.

The Man blinked bashfully. "I know, a little fast for me too, but after several hundred years it finally feels right. And," he shrugged haplessly. "I didn't make the rules. The first Selkies must-have."

Crowley could feel the tiny niggling of the fairy tale in the back of his head.

" _Selkies? Yeah... something about the skin you give it then you ar_ e _married. They... like, steal women or... no wait, the guys steal their skins and make them wives? I.... this is so fucking absurd I can't even... Oh fuck Anathema babbled about this once. Oh shit, maybe I should have actually listened. But it's a myth. A lie."_

He stared back down at the creamy pelt and his fingers said it wasn't.

_"Lie, send it away. This is too fucking strange..."_

"I'm... already married..." Crowley muttered, still fingering the pelt.

"No you're not!" grinned the Man like it was a guessing game and he knew he had the answers.

"How do you know that?" Crowley spat.

"I know. I know this about you from what your eyes said to me last night. You have been married but not long and no feelings remain, You have seen others but don't hold them in your heart." 

Crowley knew it would be pointless to argue with this thing. Worse, he knew that's exactly what he begged in his eyes last night, even if it was for a microsecond; _"I have no one in my life."_

" I...." he blurted desperately, "Only... date women. Female humans. Sorry." He grinned his most triumphant.

The Man jerked his head back not in surprise but amusement.

"That is very much a lie. Please, there's no need to lie to me about it."

"It's the truth!" Crowley yowled.

The Man simply placed a hand on Crowley's and patted it.

"My dear," he firmly comforted, "I know you want to think that but it's funny that humans still lie to themselves. You have been with women and do like them, but you prefer men and always have."

Crowley wavered at the touch as the hand rested atop his. The hand was surprisingly calloused and the skin cool, but Crowley didn't care. He hadn't been touched in years that way.

Crowley swallowed again.

"Uhmm, Mr.. Selkie..."

"Oh my!" the Man clutched Crowley's hand up to his chest. "Forgive me! Proposing and I never told you my name! " he tittered. "That's love for you!"

"Sure is," Crowley quavered and he felt unsteady on his feet.

"Please, dear, my real name is Aziraphale."

"Uhmm...." 

Crowley couldn't muster an ounce of motor skill to push his mouth around that. 

"But since humans change over time I go by Ezra for short. "

"Oh. Lovely. Ezra." Crowley held the doorway with his other hand.

Ezra nodded excitedly. 

"And now that you know, Anthony, I hope we can move forward in our lives together."

Crowley couldn't stop staring back into those eyes. Eyes that wouldn't lie. That hid nothing but had an ocean of secrets. That we

"Ezra," he whispered. 

The Selkie only smiled back. 

"What... why... I'm... I've never..."

"It's alright," Ezra pulled closer, still clutching his hand.

"After all these years, the wait was worth it for me. I promise I'll be nothing but yours."

Crowley swallowed again.

Ezra was not Crowley's first type in the least. Yes, Crowley did prefer men. He dated women, married one to dispel rumors, and even forced himself to affairs and one night flings with other women to prove exactly what he felt the world needed to hear and suspect about him. After years and rumors of other types of flings came out. Crowley had divorced and found himself still running from himself. Even though he located back in his hometown where folks cared little about where his likes swung and he was finally admitting things to himself, Crowley felt detached from romance in general. Sure, he had Tindr and various dating profiles. The less personal and more quick fling ones suited him better years ago, but now that felt like a lie he kept up to prove to himself someone could love him. In the last few years he found no thrill in these hookups and counted himself lucky he got to this age with few scars (or worse) to show. The wear of age and time did make him start to earnestly yearn for a partner he wished he'd looked for while he had all that energy to burn. 

He hoped to fall in with someone like himself; stylish, career and appearance driven. He didn't want a fop puttering around the house. He didn't want a sugar daddy. He certainly did not want a dandy. He wanted some elegant reflection to what he hoped he still had in his waning youth.

Ezra was certainly stylish if it was over a hundred years ago.

And he wasn't old, but the shock of curly white hair was surreal. And his features weren't unpleasant in the least. As a matter of fact, he was a rare face that possessed the ability to look charmingly older but remarkably puckish and rather young. He was a few inches shorter than Crowley but not petite.

Not Crowley's type, but there was something about him growing on Crowley, and he couldn’t dredge up a full sentence to send him away. 

"I..."

Ezra looked softly at the apple of his eye and Crowley swore he could be purring. 

"Anthony J. Crowley, human of the land, Mortal who chose this lone Selkie as his spouse, may I offer myself to you are your kind does in union?"

Crowley couldn't believe in heart he did not want to say no. He didn't want to upset this gentle creature that had just shown up. He even began to feel that it would result in some sort of suffering or death if he said no. But even putting aside Ezra, Crowley felt like an emotional hand was being offered to him, and he didn't want to say no. He wanted to know more about this thing. To be with it and share things he'd never confess to anyone because it would never be anything less to him than it offered now. To wrap that pelt against his skin forever.

"I... do."

Ezra didn't waste another second as he pulled the ring out of the cushions and slipped it smoothly on Crowley's ring finger. Of course it fit perfectly. Of course it was a ring that Crowley had always wanted. Something heavy weighed on Crowley's back and sighed against his cheek.

Part of the pelt now draped warmly over his shoulder and Ezra's as well. Ezra leaned closer and held Crowley's slender waist, making his skin quiver.

"I accept in full, my love. " Somehow the Selkie's voice was deeper and filled Crowley's head like the rolling of the ocean.

 _"What have I gotten into?! "_ Screamed Crowley in his mind. _"I just fucking married someone I just met claiming to be a fucking mythical creature! But I feel like I can't let him go because I do want him and he'll fucking die on the spot if I don't! AND GOD HELP ME, I WANT TO! I fucking married him! Three years ago I was in a fucking Tindr gang-bang with 4 other guys strapped to a table blindfolded for Christs sake."_

  
  


Crowley's mouth hung open and every breath heaved his body. Ezra took this as in invite, and tenderly raised a hand up to Crowley's face and guided their mouths together. Crowley was collapsing into Ezra's grip as a tongue brushed along his. To be fair, Crowley had had his share of truly strange things in his mouth (aforementioned gang-bang) but it wasn't just the tongue. He felt Ezra's teeth were strangely wide and jagged. His front incisors were longer than any Crowley's tongue had encountered. Much longer, and well, very incisory. And the salty taste. Ezra tasted uncannily like saltwater.

Crowley gagged at the feeling which seemed to encourage Ezra to press deeper while his hands moved over Crowley's back.

All these years, so many lovers and experiments and no one had kissed Crowley like this. 

He held the front of Ezra's jacket for support until the Selkie pulled back. Rasping for breath he stared back at the grinning face.

And for an instant, he finally could see more of Ezra's real features. His eyes were larger, darker, and spaced further apart. His teeth were sharper and fairly canine, giving him a lupine smile that remained oddly delicate. The white curly hair was even more luscious. His face slanted and pointed slightly more. His face's soft spots were more prominent and very much patterning in calico splotches over his cheeks and down his neck. The air about him was like a dog that would be terrifying if it was barking and threatening you. But just like a loving dog with it's favourite human, there was nothing but affection in the eyes and a relaxed happy canine smile.

Crowley was as limp as the pelt in Ezra's arms.

Ezra chuckled as he shook his head, his face reverting back into a passable human. 

"Sorry, I let myself go there. I'll try and remember not to do that where other humans might see."

"That's fine," whispered Crowley.

Ezra seemed to take this as further encouragement and leaned closer with a faint growl.

"Oh good. I don't care either. Now, my love, we tarry too long. Shall I bear you to the waters to consummate our union?"

"Waters?" Crowley whimpered.

"My home," Ezra whispered in his ear making Crowley shiver. "Our home. I share it with you now." 

"I..."

"Oh, forgive me," Ezra chortled, "I've had hundreds of years of experience to land. I can't expect you to shoot twixt wind and water with me on your first moments in the deep. Let's stay here right now, Hmm?"

"Let's," came a grateful squeak.

Ezra nuzzled his neck deeper and Crowley bowed his head back in want. 

"Well then, " chortled Ezra, "I could board the land carrack here and now if you prefer."

"Uhm... what does that..."

Ezra responded by clutching Crowley against his broad body with a slamming motion against the front door. Crowley was stunned but knew he shouldn't be surprised; Ezra felt immensely stronger than him. Crowley wasn't a bodybuilder, but athletic enough to fight his way out of bad moments. 

"I want to," Ezra helpfully explained in Crowley's ear with a growling growl in his voice, "Please your body with mine. All of you as only a loving husband can. I want to hold you close and touch your skin until I know it as well as my own. I want to stare into your eyes and share every sunrise I've seen since I was born. I want to dive into your deepest waters."

Crowley was overwhelmed. Like a poem from the sea whispering in his ear, and not like the whispers from the water he heard a month ago. And definitely not the same as some texts he received before some of his less memorable late night hookups.

He clutched back and was shaking hard.

"No... not...."

Ezra pulled him closer with a sigh.

"Of course, dear. I can love you in other ways. When you are ready," he whispered. "Until then, my love."

Crowley went limp with confused relief and the feeble feeling of his hangover yanked him down. 

"Thanks. I'm uhmm. Just. I need to lay down a moment. Ezra.

Ezra scooped him up, and for an instant he feared they were heading for the waters.

Instead the Selkie managed to open Crowley's front door, enter, bump the door shut behind him and march in like he owned the place.

 _"Technically if we are married I 'spose he does own part of the place now,"_ Crowley mused to himself. 

Ezra turned to get his bearing but seemed fairly understanding of how human houses worked as he headed for the den. He deposited Crowley on the largest daybed and placed the pelt on top of him.

Crowley clutched at the fur and felt instant relief. 

Ezra had vanished but returned a moment later with one of Crowley's mugs and leaned to Crowley's face.

"Drink please," he whispered. 

Crowley leaned up and sipped what proved to be tap water.

He gratefully slurped down the contents before falling back into the cushions.

_"Oh fuck, Crowley. What have I done."_

He felt a panic that Ezra wasn't there in his view and tried to rouse. After a moment, he felt the movement beside him of Ezra, and was vaguely aware of him clambering carefully to his side. His shoes and over jacket were off. He remained ridiculously quaint looking, but Crowley didn't care. He sidled up beside him and pulled him against his torso. Sheepishly the realization that despite Crowley's fantasy of another thin masculine form against him was his daydream, Ezra was as sturdy and welcoming as a recliner. 

"Shhh, there there, get some rest. I forget humans are frailer and this must be overwhelming."

Crowley sighed into the touch caressing his hair.

All these years of trying to find his match, trying to prove something to himself and the world, hoping to find adventures wild and thrilling and right at this moment he was married by some archaic fairy law to a seal-creature. And it felt just right.

_______________

Crowley woke feeling better.

Much better.

His limbs were still sluggish and his head hollow. As he tried to move, he realized the heaviness was the pelt on him. Like a weighted blanket, it pressed reassuringly on him. And then he noticed the arms across his waist. His eyes tracked it up the shoulder and found he was inches away from a mess of white curly hair.

Crowley realized the buzzing from his cell had woke him and he slowly reached his free arm over to it.

Several texts.

First was Beez.

**“Hey, azzh0le, runnin’ the Soundz. Thanks for the heads up on sleeping in. U OWE MEEEE.**

“Yep. Sure do,” he thought as he scrolled to the next stack of messages.

Yep, Anathema.

**"Hey, Crow, you alright? Worried about you. Hit me up. Hey! you about today? I'd love to take you out for lunch, my treat. Hey, you alright? I tried to call earlier. !!CROWLEY, Iwillswingbyurplace@noonifIdnthearfrmU!!!"**

Crowley glanced at the clock. 10:00 in the morning. 

He jabbed a reply with his thumb.

**"Yo, Ana. I'm fine. Sorta. Will catch up, no need to stop by."**

She replied in a millisecond.

**"SORTA?"**

That need to heckle her rose in Crowley. He didn't like to make her worry, and honestly, she'd be the one to talk to. And this could be funny. It had to be funny, he was married into it.

**"Yeah. Got married last night."**

**"Haha. Go to Vegas?"**

**"More like Atlantis."**

**"...... Wait, you didn't try and drown yourself did you??"**

" _Oh shit, I can see that joke sort of backfired, didn't want her to worry._ **Nope, nope. Got hitched to a fish."**

**"Drunk hook up?"**

**"Was sober actually."**

**"Uh-huh. Yeah, do I want to know.** "

Of all the people in this world, of course he wanted her to.

" **Yeah. You'll love him."**

There was a pause.

**"HIM?"**

Crowley snarled and chuckled at himself.

**"Yeah him. Alert the media."**

**"Uh, so.... good looking? Fast car? Did you put a ring on it?** "

Crowley silently snapped a shot of his binding band on his finger.

**"WHOA. You put a ring on him already?!"**

**"He put it on me, wiseass."**

**"!!! You sure you were sober?!?! DA FUQ?! EXPEN$IVE$$$!"**

**"Yeah."**

**"You must have blown him good."**

" _Oh you little witch."_ Crowley snickered to himself. 

**"Haha, I can hear that in your voice. No. we haven't done it twixt between water and air yet. I returned something to a nice man and he thinks I was proposing."**

**"Crowley, do you need me there now? You alright? WTF is up?"**

He sighed, if he didn't give her more answers, she'd be right over on her goddam bike in a surly mood.

Another text popped in.

" ** _WHERE DID HE GET RING?! I can see things about it I need to tell you."_**

_"If she can see a bind or something on it..._ "

**"Ana, listen, I am alright. BUT; don't lie, do you see anything in this picture?"**

He carefully held out the phone and framed it to capture Ezra draped over him. He also made sure to catch his own haggard face, complete with a worried smile while his ring-clad free hand flashed devil horns. 

"NoFilter" he tagged and sent it. Crowley felt his heart drumming as a minute crawled by. Ezra seemed to hear it too as his hand pushed open his shirt and flatted right above the thrumming.

Crowley melted and heaved some deep breaths. The buzzing in his palm startled him.

**"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID ASSHOLE?"**

" **Bad picture, I know. Hair is horrible."**

**"YOU FUCKING MARRIED A SELKIE."**

**"Oh that. Yeah, sure did."**

**"OHHOLYFUCKINGSHITTT!?!?!?!?! WHAT?!?!?!"**

**"Careful, you might wake him with your shouting."**

**"HOW THE FUCK?!"**

**"Gave back a fur coat, now he wants to ravish me."**

**_"YOU SAID YES YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"_ **

Crowley was going to wisecrack that it was a hard offer to refuse, but his hand quivered. How could he explain that he didn't simply want to say no, he wanted to be with this creature.

Anathema was typing nonstop.

" **NO DURESS? WERE YOU FORCED? I CAN HELP IF SO TELL ME ASAP!"**

**"No force. he asked. I was confused. I did say yes."**

**"Can still get you out. Let me research. I don't believe this.** "

Crowley could see she was panicking that he had accidentally said yes or maybe was coerced.

**"ANA, LISTEN. I thought it over. I wanted to say yes. I did say yes. He would have listened to no if I said.** "

Another pause.

" **YOU SURE? DRUNK? NOT PUSHY?"**

**"Not like that. "**

**"No is no if you mean it. Can still get you out if not real. There R other things that are similar and prey on folks."**

Crowley looked down at the round face pressed against his chest with the faintest smile, exposing his front incisors slightly. Crowley warmed at the endearing look it gave him.

**"What Cn U see in the pix?"**

Anathema took her time while Crowley dared to reach up and touch the fair locks. It looked soft but it wasn't even like soft human hair. Like the pelt it melted around his fingers in warmth. 

His phone buzzed in his limp hand. 

**"Not human."**

**"I kissed him and know that, wisenheimer. He could bite through a parking meter."**

**"Old. Very old."**

**"Hey, maybe I'm into older GUYS now. Leave me alone."**

**"Did you get it on? Important No lies PLEASE.."**

**"No. Said no, he was a good boy."**

**"Wow, he might be a keeper. Fuck. Crowley, can I come and meet him? Will give you more answers."**

**"Lemme shower and talk to him. Will let you know."**

**"Name? Does he have a name ?"**

**"Goes by Ezra. Said old name was Ezrrafall or something."**

**"Wow. WOw. Keep in touch, come to me if something goes wrong. See U soon PLZ?!"**

**"Will do. Gotta run. Ezra waking up."**

Crowley bumped the chat screen off.

Ezra stretched his large form in a surprisingly languid motion and yawned and yawn much larger than a normal man should. 

He turned his dreamy gaze up to Crowley.

_"His eyes are fucking huge. And so deep."_

Crowley felt that shudder seeping through his body. 

"Better feeling dear?"

Crowley did. For the odd moment, he felt secure and peaceful. 

"I am."

Ezra shouldered up more until he was nearly face to face with Crowley. He leaned in with a slight twist of his head and closed his eyes.

Crowley felt out of practice with any sort of love language, realizing the Selkie was asking permission for a kiss.

_"He might be a keeper..."_

Crowley let himself lean in to press his lips against Ezra's.

They toyed for a moment before Ezra pressed him back against the cushions to kiss deeper.

Crowley was almost ready to accept Ezra was going to take advantage of the moment. They were married, it wouldn’t be the first time for Crowley.

Ezra continued to delve about in Crowley's mouth. He pulled up and brushed Crowley's cheek with a thumb.

"Come talk to me," Ezra whispered.

Crowley shuddered at the sensation.

No one whispered what a hot body he had. Nobody making those promises to break. Asking for something. For grabbing him by his hair and telling him when it was enough.

"Why are you shaking like a leaf?" 

Crowley's eyes snapped open. 

Ezra was looking at him plaintively. 

"Because..."

"Won't you please talk to me?" Ezra interrupted suddenly. "We can unlock this misery. Come on, come talk to me."

_"What... poetry? No... wait? "_

" I did not come to steal. This all is so unreal

Can't you show me how you feel?" Ezra's voice was soft and singingsongy.

_"Song lyrics... he's.. talking in fucking song lyrics?"_

Crowley leaned, widened his eyes and cracked an amused smile. Ezra clearly got the response he desired and grinned back. 

"You, uhm , Selkies, like... hmmm, Peter Gabriel?"

"I like music," Ezra whispered. "I learned to talk that way. People singing songs."

Crowley suddenly lunged in to kiss aggressively and moan into Ezra. Ezra was surprised, but made no resistance until they parted.

Crowley was quite titillated and prepared now to act upon the moment. 

"I mean, maybe I shouldn't play so cautious. He speaks my language apparently and I'm doing this for science."

But Ezra was already scooting and pulling himself upright, leaving Crowley reaching out as he pulled away.

"Soon, not yet," the Selkie whispered. He touched Crowley's nose like he was a pesky child and stood up. 

"But..."

"I will make tea for us, hmm?"

He briskly headed for the kitchen.

Crowley flopped back on the pelt with a hiss.

_"Dammit. I should have just let him fuck me when we first met. I hate teases."_

He snatched up his cell and jabbed out a message.

**"Dammit, Ana, he's a tease. Blushing bride has needs. Oh, he likes Rock and Roll, I think. And tea."**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Flip character version at [When my ships come in](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456586)
> 
> Crowley isn't bad but it's absolutely suggested he's been alcoholic, substance-abusing, in toxic and abusive relationships, questioned his bi or pansexuality (there's much denial here), and has self-harmed or tried suicide. But I am not making this story about a person with foibles being rescued by a better person, it's about someone people see the better in and always reach out to help anyway. Ezra is absolutely smitten but don't be fooled, he's not naive. And Crowley is not bad in the least, but he does need reminding he's cared for.  
> ____________  
> Ezra likes rock and roll. Guess who his favourite band will be.  
> _________  
> Ink Spots were my grandpops fav, and I love their music too.
> 
> ___________________  
> I am NOT a fan of sudden relationships out of the blue, but I love the idea that they both were waiting for each other at this moment and it happened and Crowley has no clue what to do and Ezra does. I also didn't want the forced/coerced twist that often goes with Selkies of forced unions. I want a Selkie that has been waiting till this day and Mr. Perfect finally came along.  
> I utterly don't want any forced or coerced love here.  
> _______  
> Warning, Crowley might need a lesson or two to realize what he does and does not have.  
> WATCH TAGS, will get more explicit.


End file.
